


Impropriety

by Tynni



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Religious Content, Romano's mouth, Songfic, Spain...nuff said
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:39:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tynni/pseuds/Tynni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lovino is uninterested in Papal succession...there are other, more distracting things...!songfic to Rev 22:20. Spamano.  Dat mouth..One-shot !unneeded summary...random title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impropriety

**Author's Note:**

> Never done one of these so...T_T
> 
> My 'romance' is bad, but here's to practice!
> 
> Romano's mouthxReligious themesx...adults alone...Grammar is non existent as it's an attempt to be "thought process" writing...or something.
> 
> On FF as well....

 

 

_Don't be aroused by my confession_  
 _Unless you don't give a good goddamn about redemption, I know_  
 _Christ is comin' and so am I  
_ _You would too if this sexy devil caught your eye_

"What _bullshit_ …."

I'm not certain why my inner epilogue decided to flow freely from my lips. My brain simply connected to my flesh and forced it to move. The muscle in my mouth forming those sinful words as if I were speaking of the weather or the traffic report. Heavens above would have had no trouble hearing my sacrilege as I spoke in my distinctive agitated tone. Lightning declined to strike me dead as I sat, laid, sprawled belly up on the couch as my hazels stared, bored at the constant dance of pictures before me. My hand absently fiddled with the silver cross that clung to my neck, a weak silver chain connecting me to the symbolism. 'A new pope' it said. 'Resigned' they shouted…and I, Romano, personification of Southern _Repubblica Italiana_ , Home of the Vatican and head of the Catholic church, ….Lovino Vargas, couldn't give a shit.

"Eh…Lovi, shouldn't you be concerned?" The sunny voice caused me to roll my eyes. I put forth only enough effort to frame the bastard of an owner in my sights. There he stood. The bane of all that was me. The reason I care less if there was a new old man in a chair as a renovated subway in Canada. Wide emeralds carried over the message of a more extensive smile. "You should respect the seguidores del Dios" His teeth flashed brightly as he chided me for my impropriety. Yet, there was more behind it, I knew. God help me, I knew. Anyone else wouldn't have seen it. Anyone else would have apologized, without meaning it, and continued their merry way. However, my merry way wanted more. My merry way needed...well, it just needed.

I forced my body into a mostly sitting position, feet still skewed across the couch as my arms protested having to prop up what little weight I owned. My head lolled to the side and I watched a few more moments pass by as a reported seemed to get excited about a stone that had touched 'his Holiness' in his last moments. My lips once again played the offender. A smirk took hold of my face as I kept mock attention to the video. "Es una mierde." I reiterated in the tongue I knew almost like my own. With that said, I let myself experience the joys of standing up after long hours of being a couch potat -no- _any_ vegetable but that. I suppose a couch tomato would be the next best thing, though the devil would cry before I said that aloud.

My body felt as though every joint had glued itself together. Everything cried with numbed pain, begging for me to drop back toward the couch and give up whatever notions possessed me to do otherwise. How did that Hamburger shit-for-brains have any mobility left? Eyes screwed shut as I pulled and strained as far as my body would go. My arms stretched above me, lifting my Armani shirt apart from my jeans to reveal my hips ever so slightly. It was a chaste, honest mistake, but I could feel the burn of the repercussions. The stare that threaten to engulf me whole. Refusing to look back, I reveled in the perverse attention. There was a slight increase in pulse, more so than the brief exertion could bring. I was the prey and the hunter was already poised to strike. _pleasepleaseplease…..pounce._

I glanced, ever so slightly, my peripherals doing most of the work. From this angle I could see all the better. Better. Oh so better. _fuckfuckfuck_. Was that legal? There he stood. Unmoved from before. No. I lie. His smile faded. It was replaced with a smaller one. Feral. "What the fuck do you want?" My voice was a sharp hiss while my eyes flowed, betraying my intentions. A single button was all the kept his white shirt from opening and exposing the ridges and valleys. The rivers and land. The darkly tanned and tempting skin that told the entire history of the country. Of Spain. Those jeans that covered sweet debauchery clung _tighttightight_ …why? There were spots of dirt on them, though I couldn't tell if they were fresh or simply ground in. Did he know what he was doing? No. That airhead wasn't the Frog bastard. My eyes followed my thoughts, but they weren't alone. Antonio was there too. His pursuing mine. Watching as I drank in what I wanted, that something growing all the more prominent. Trigger it! _nownownow!_

I'll confess. I am a God-fearing nation. I _was_ a God-fearing person. I'll be damned before I tangibly deny myself what I won't admit orally.

Letting myself leisurely saunter over to turn off the offending television, I remarked back again, quite snidely, "Dio e ho smesso di interferire con l'altro..." I straightened my back a little before I turned to fully face the opposing party, but the action was unnecessary. It was instant, utterly silent, it was agonizingly painless, and it was sweeter than Death. My spine tingled from the sensation. Pressed tightly against the wall so tight my shirt began to dig at my pores. I had initially landed softly, though pressure was now applied, trying to meld me to the barrier. Hands were crudely bound by sturdier ones on either side of my hips. A knee thrust between my own limbs. I stared into a void. That something turned to everything. Nothing was left to question. There was no escape. Finally. "What the hell are…"A gasp escaped, delayed by surprise, and it began.

 

_She'll suck you dry  
_ _And still you'll cry to be back in her bosom  
_ _To do it again_

 

Our lips met. No. They didn't meet. They knew each other. They were old drinking friends, best buddies, never without each other long. They didn't meet. They collided. A bruising force that couldn't be accidental. I felt myself manage to press even harder against the partition, allowing the other to feel I was safely confined. I wasn't trying, I wouldn't try, but his obsession kept pressing me back. _calmcalmcalm...heat.passion.need. **need**_. There was no denying. My pulse could be felt on the Richter scale. I smiled ever so slightly into what I would call a chaste kiss. Here was proof, to me and the rest of this otherwise empty house. I was needed, it was me that this passion was fixated on. There wasn't a God, Devil, or Nation that could change that. This is what I wanted, what I needed, what I couldn't say.

That small crack in my expression was not overlooked. The silent figure pressed forward. There were no requests, no agreements. Instead, I felt the warmth of his body invade mine. A noise rose from his chest as he gained entrance, muffled as it broke apart in our mouths. I fought, I really did. I wanted dominance in this small battle of muscle and fluids, but I lost quickly. It was unfair, honestly. Sweetsweatspice. That flavor. There was a tang to it. Exotic spices mixed with something that couldn't be explained. Then there was the wine. A flavor that I knew well. It wasn't strong, maybe one glass, or two. Just a garnish to his natural zest. It was my turn to let a strangled sound escape, just moments before he pulled back, before we asphyxiated ourselves. My breath was ragged, but I felt better knowing I wasn't alone. My eyes glared a challenge, a dare.

"…Lovino. Don't...…" The gasped command had a hazardously playful undertow to it.

"Cosa? " I jeered back, feigning innocence. My arms attempted to push forward, but they were pressed back again, rejoining the wall with a light thud. I glowered now, aggressive. No one was there to see though. I felt the pain as his mouth nipped quick rebuttals on my neck with expert precision. He traveled lightly along my jawline, stopping ever so often at on areas where he knew. Slowly, the bites grew stronger, without any attempt to sooth the pain afterwards. He dipped into the crook of my neck, tracing along the vein that kept me alive. Words failed me. Anticipation was racking my body. Small whimpers escaped as I tried to at least look like I was giving resistance. "Is...is that all, bastardo."

 

_Pray_  
 _'Til I go blind  
_ _Pray  
_ _'Cause nobody ever survives_

  

I yelped as Antonio bit down especially hard directly on my collar bone. My hands reached to grip his wrists, administering abuse of their own. I might not have had such a colorful past or been a pirate, but I was Lovino Fucking Vargas. The mafia played kiddy-games in my back yard. My grip would leave a mark and nails gnawed into his skin. It wasn't a deterrent. Nope. It was far too late for that. It anything, it was an accelerator, one I planned to push to the floor.

"Are you fucking done yet?" A poke. A prod. An insult with a different meaning.

"Mi Dios, so not cute. What if I am?" Again. A meaning left for interpretation. Nails dug deeper into skin, an answer. A chuckle, deep and husky, flowing like the Ebro. "That's what I thought."

Freedom. A hand leaves mine. It reappears and causes my leg to shake. My eyes fly to heaven while my free hand drops low. The situation flips as my hand grasps the others. Antonio has already found what he wants. How he managed to get that perfectly sculpted hand through my jean waist-line so quickly will forever astound me. His weight shifts, leaning against me now rather than just pushing, but I barely notice. My knees have gone weak as he holds me in his hands. A flick, then massaged. My free hand abandons him to cover my mouth. Traitorous, evil, honest.

"Dios." It's a choked, muffled, ugly word.

"…He won't interfere, remember." The words whispered in my ear make my head spin and my eyes turn to liquid glass.

His hand skillfully removed itself before slipping the restriction fabric down altogether. My body refused to move, allowing the transgressions appraisingly. The way each finger brushed a certain area, they trailed and tickled, knowing. They knew, he knew! Those lips, whispering horrible, dreadful, adulterated things before recollecting mine. My hand running across his shoulders and tangling in his brown locks. Teasing and wrapping before giving a sharp tug. The garbled sound he made was more than enough to please me. I dominated this kiss for a moment, before he pulled away, sneering.

"¡Ay, You'll regret that mi tomate." He purred.

"Like Hell…" I ignored the spine wracking shivers that gripped me.

Oh but I did. Sweet repentance. The man before me dropped to his knees, studying, worshiping. Tentatively, he took me in. A light kiss to start off with a sigh. Small flicks of his tongue had me chewing on my lips. A little pressure applied to the tip made me hiss. Then the world dimmed for a moment as my throat was seized by some imperceptible power. Controlcontrolcontrol. The word was alien now. I couldn't keep my back from bowing away from the wall, trying, wanting, to get more, have more, require more. A strong hand pressed my hips back, eliciting a dismayed cry from somewhere.

Oh. That was me.

Right… _Shit_.

I wanted to recover some sense of composure, but I was in the grips of a carnal instigator. His tongue was doing something… _yesyesyes_ that! That something, with his hand. There was no winning. I couldn't bring myself to be rational, thus I simply caught and latched back into the curling brown mess. My grip was feeble. Nothing more than a reinforcement. At least until I felt that heat. Warm, tingling, searing, white hot! That feeling that every man, woman, and creature should have the pleasure of being subjected to. It was building, too quick. I tried to notify him with a curt little tug, but he, Spain, the man who could eye-fuck you to gestation, only hummed a long note before persisting. Well, he only had a few more ticks of effort laid out for him as I wasn't enduring.

A sob pointed skyward. White lights and angels? No. More like drunken vision and failing motor skills.

 

_Jesus is risen, it's no surprise  
_ _Even he would martyr his mama to ride to hell between those thighs_

I plunged. It wasn't elegant. I just couldn't hold myself any longer. My body skimmed down along the wall until I met up with the man slouching before me. I joined his in his prayer, my knees sinking to the floor, intertwined, only a slight amount of wet to cause discomfort. Most of the mess had been swallowed or caught by his hand. Without thinking, my arms snaked around the man before me. Breath heavy for a moment, he allowed me to catch it.

"Shit…shit.… _shit_." My words slowly grew quieter.

"¡Qué bonita oración." He chuckled, pulling me closer, one of his hand groping along my back, running heavy fingers straight down my spine causing illicit noises I will never repeat. Through this distraction, Antonio, the bastardo he is, took his opportunity. While one limb caused damage along my nervous system, the other took new liberties. I felt the pressure, demanding entrance. I tensed, then instinctively relaxed as he pressed in. My grip around his neck tightened as I buried my head into his shoulder. A second was added and my eyes fluttered as a string of curses escaped me. The Spaniard was using the fluid I had just ,unwillingly, gave him. Yet it wasn't enough. It was uncomfortable, and despite his gentle procedure, I inhaled deeply before biting hard on his shoulder as he added a third. Somewhere I heard words, things coming in a rough voice that seemed strained. Something about faith, demeanor, and ti amo. But that wasn't clicking. I was too focused on the _painpainpain...ohyes_! A slight change of angle and a crooked finger and my head snapped back. My body tried to replay that moment, begging for him to do it again. Instead, I got nothing. Literally. Everything was gone, all sensation.

Antonio must have found my suffering entertaining as his grin grew by the second. I huffed at him before mumbling under my breath. " me…w…avore"

"Hmm…. You're hard to comprende, mi amore."

I growled. Pride be damned. "Cazzo! If you don't now, I swear I'll…hmmfph!"

There was no argument now. I only had to wait long enough for him to shimmy his jeans away from his waist. We didn't even need to break our lips for breath before I could feel him pressed against me. His hand worked to lather himself in whatever he could. If we had been more rational, we would have been upstairs, where there were supplies for this kind of problem. Instead, he worked his hands against both mine and his, nearly bringing me over again before he found himself satisfied with his work. I gripped his shirt with more than enough strength. That stupid fucking button never had a chance. I let my head drop and press into his torso.

My body involuntarily bent violently as he pressed into me. Straddled on top of him caused my weight to push him in faster, and more so. "Shit..mmm!" I tried to retreat back to the comforts of his body, but my arms were once again captive, palms flat against the floor on either side of me. The sudden movement caused me to slip, impaling myself on him and creating a shooting sensation that wracked me. Breathing became a luxury I could barely afford. "Wait just a god-damned min—" I couldn't finish, no matter how bad I wanted to scream at him. The words stopped in my throat and were replaced by a hiccupped sound. I wanted to scream, to cry, _to continue_. For now, I could only try to relax as he eyes bore through me with slight concern, dwarfed by an uncontrolled tint. Were his eyes always this green, bright,... sharp?

 

_The pressure is building at the base of my spine  
_ _If I gotta sin to see her again then I'm gonna lie, lie, lie_

  

My eyes couldn't hold back now as small dribbles of liquid escaped only to be lapped up by the waiting Spaniard. "Breathe." He moved slowly, but there was no helping it. My arms were finally released and I was allowed to return to my sanctuary. My arms wrapped tightly around his neck, grasping at whatever fell near my hands. Antonio's own limbs had brought my legs around his waist as he tried to press farther in. "You ..hmm….shi….Stop for a …..Ahn!" The pace increased slightly. My head was tipped back by those familiar hands. Again. Those eyes threatened to take me. I just wanted to-

_Fuck_

The sound of a phone vibrating was loud and clear. The pants Antonio had recently discarded shook ever so slightly and I could instantly read his face like a book. There was something important, pressing, and _forgotten_. I scowled my displeasure, though in my position, it wasn't very convincing. I didn't have to ask to know my expression wasn't helping the situation. I took to hiding in his shirt like some child, afraid to meet the eyes of an adult.

"A-answer it, stupid." I tried to push off him. I was preparing my rant already. Ready to lash out at him about disremembering things. But I never got the chance. Strong arms enveloped me, switching our positions. I found myself staring towards the ceiling, my mouth captured once more as his arm shot out, searching…finding. Antonio pulled away by only inches before answering the device.

"Si….si….Lo siento. I think I have a fever, Boss. I'll be in tomorrow….no…" My face heated as I felt his breath with every word. I wanted to scream at him, this was too wrong, god this was hot. I felt a sense of voyeurism I had never expected, but I tried to shoot it down. My first made contact with his shoulder as I forced myself to truly glare at him. His boss was speaking about something important, economic, papers, why was he biting his lip like that. That smile was unsettling. What - …both my hands flew to cover the cry that wanted to come out. That fucking idiot! He was on the phone, so close to me! Another hard thrust and my hands clamp tighter. "Ah…no. My voice has been off un poco. I'm sure just from the weather." I forced on hand to muffle the sounds that my body betrayed while the other looked for purchase wherever it could be found. Nails scrapped the floor, looking for something, anything…nothing. "Si si….. mañana. Adios." The phone was quickly discarded. I panted heavily from the stress.

"You …tomato… figlio di puttana." I could feel the heat on my face grow. All I achieved was a snicker at first.

"There's my adorable little Lovi~…"

  

_My pulse has been rising, my temples are pounding_  
 _The pressure is so overwhelming and building  
_ _So steady now, Freddy, I'm ready to blow  
_ _What is she, what is she, what is she waiting for?_

 

I had no concept of time, space, thought. My heart felt like it was trying to keep pace with those piano pieces Austria liked to play when he was agitated. I no longer attempted to keep myself quiet, not that I could. Antonio, god damned Spain, decided he needed to feel, taste, hear. That left me with a frantic nation draped heavily on me, crashing into me as though his life depended on it. My hands clawed ribbons at his back, drawing blood as he touch there. That place. The one that forced reckless abandon in even the most sane of men. He knew it too. The way his hips shifted, my breathlessness hitched, our bodies amalgamated.

It was over, my body began to ascend again. Feeling the warm sensation that gave me only a few moments warning before I knew it would be over. I called his name, once, twice, seven times. Was he close? The tense way his back flexed against my palms told me. Yes. Please! Warm air trailed along my collar bone and I felt the cool metal that had been ignored lift from my skin. It felt like restraining, binding, and as Antonio held the silver rope between his teeth, I could swear I felt it snap during those last seconds.

* * *

"Bed" I demanded, half dead on the living room floor. I waved over the shirt I managed to keep on, ruined most likely, which set my temper.

Antonio's eyes sparkled, rejuvenated. Whatever had been there before had been released.

"But I'm hungry. Lets have dinner first! I'll make fideua and you can-"

"We just had fucking ridiculously unstable sex because of a retiring old guy. You will take me to bed or so help me you'll be celibate until the 630th Pope!" Antonio flinched a little at the words, but complied quickly. I let myself be picked up, though I didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Instead, I settled into mumbling obscene words about his mother and threatened his country with military powers I thought I had.

* * *

"Ve~…Fratello…Where is the cross I gave you?"

"..."

**Author's Note:**

> Now don't kill me. I have no problems with any religion(s)...it's just where this went.
> 
> This is my first 'fanfic' 'songfic'...anything. So I'm not going to be hurt by anything...first time for everything right.
> 
> Plus, I haven't slept in 28 hours so...
> 
> Onward!
> 
>  **Translations** (all can be found on Google tranlate because I don't speak Spanish or Italian)
> 
> seguidores del Dios ~ Followers of God
> 
> Es una mierde ~ It's bullshit
> 
> Dio e ho smesso di interferire con l'altro ~ God and I have stopped interfering with each other.
> 
> Cosa ~ What?
> 
> Qué bonita oración ~ What a pretty/beautiful prayer.
> 
> Un poco ~ a little
> 
> figlio di puttana ~ son of a bitch
> 
> Fideua~ a Valencian dish similar to paella
> 
> ~Some other words, but I figured most were self explanatory or well known~
> 
> If anyone wants to make corrections on this...please feel free...please
> 
> Song: Rev 22:20 by Puscifier.
> 
> I do no own the song nor Hetalia...sadly


End file.
